The Visitation

It all transpired within half an hour last Friday.

My dear friend Fran and I were sitting on the front porch of her country home in Vermont, talking while taking in the fresh morning air, when two dogs came bounding down the road and saw us. They approached somewhat cautiously. As they came near, it was clear that they were comfortable with people -- and affectionate. They sized us up pretty quickly as two dog-friendly humans. They each wore a collar that could hook to a leash, but the collars were very loose and carried no ID tags. They each had a flea collar that appeared to have been torn. They looked quite different - one was large and black, probably a lab mix; the other was smaller with white, brown, and black wiry fur. They clearly belonged together and stayed in close proximity to each other. They were a bit disheveled -- probably from running around in the countryside. No owner in sight, and they were not familiar to Fran.

What to do?

They clearly wanted to get into the house (peering in the screen door), so we all went in, and then Fran put some bowls of water down for them. They inhaled it. The little one spied some cat food that Little Bean had not eaten, and it was snarfed up in an instant.

I don't recall that either of them ever barked, and they loved our generous petting. We loved it too.

Fran called a friend to problem solve. I took some pictures, and the friend posted them on a few local Facebook groups. The friend said the Constable could handle situations like this, but Fran laughed that the position was vacant because no one in the small rural town wanted to do it.

P. suggested that we take them to a vet to see if they were microchipped. But the nearest vet was in another town 40 minutes away. We decided to save that strategy for later, if needed.

I found a phone book and starting flipping through it for ideas, but then discovered it was more than 10 years old. (Remember phone books?)

Pretty quickly, the pups went into the dining room and fell asleep, huddled together, on the cool wood floor.

Fran and I each gave momentary thought to the question: If the owner can't be found, would either of us take them?? She was partial to the small one, and I to the larger one. My heart melted a bit when he "claimed" me by gently sitting on my shoe -- I assented.

It did make me miss my wonderful experiences with my Gracie. (If you don't know about Grace, here's a piece I wrote about her):

We waited a bit to see if the FB groups would yield any action, but nothing was happening.

And then Fran heard a U-Haul rented panel truck slowly driving down the gravel road, with someone calling for the dogs. Sure enough - the owner. He had been working on a house up the road and had let them run ... and they ran more than he counted on. When he called and opened the door to the truck, they eagerly ran to it and hopped up. No need to prove his ownership.

So many feelings. Happiness that the sweet pups were reunited with their owner. But a few pulls of the heartstrings, missing my Gracie and wondering whether I had room in my life for another dog. It was a poignant fantasy, but no.

As I processed that brief episode, I kept asking myself what hidden meaning it might contain for me. Of course, it may contain no hidden meaning at all. Two dogs were let off leash, got excited about being in the country, ran down an unfamiliar road, and found 2 friendly folks chatting on a front porch who gave them water and a few pets. Then the owner searched for and found them. End of story.

But was it?

The day prior, Fran and I had had lengthy conversations about the sorry state of the world and the despicable genocide occurring in Gaza. How could we help feed starving people, when food is not being allowed in? Our canine visitors were fortunate. All they had to do was walk up to the porch, act friendly, peer in the screen door - and then they were provided sustenance. Sad to say, but we treat animals more humanely than other human beings - way too often.

Last night, after returning home, I received an email from World Central Kitchen (founded by Chef José Andrés in 2010) that they are able to resume some limited cooking in Gaza, so I sent a donation. It seems so little to be doing, but it is something.

For more information about WCK, visit their website HERE:

We never knew the names of the pups whose lives intersected briefly with ours, and we don't know the names of the people whose lives will be touched by World Central Kitchen or other NGOs, but that's ok. It's all good.

UPDATE: 24 hours later, the owner drove up and asked whether his dogs were there. This time, all four of his dogs had run off! But they had not returned to Fran's. Hmmmm....

Your thoughts on these matters are always welcome.